


In Nothing Flat

by DisorientedOwl



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Seeker Blurr, Seeker Trines, will add tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-05 11:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10306958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisorientedOwl/pseuds/DisorientedOwl
Summary: Chapter averages are going to be about 1.5k words





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitkaters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkaters/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Love Bites](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9862460) by [Drazyrohk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk), [Harutemu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harutemu/pseuds/Harutemu). 



The war taught anybot the same lesson; things never return to the way things used to be. You either rolled with the punches or rolled out. You either stay one step ahead or you stand still; pushing against the tide of time, hoping to return to the past.

     So when Blurr turned up in the hands of Team Prime after being gone for Primus knows where or how long, not many mechs found it odd. The Elite Guard was especially overjoyed to see him in a seeker alt mode. As usual, the miracle of the Allspark Key worked in odd ways, forming a new frame for Blurr from the fragments of his spark and the thrusters of a Decepticon seeker; an amalgam of the ones who tried to offline him to begin with. He was heralded in hushed whispers as the martyr of the Autobot war effort, his revival reflecting a win against the Decepticons.

     But Blurr was lost in his own frame. Everyone else knew it was him, but to the Autobot the only thing that remained the same was his color. His fellow Autobots greeted him kindly and as enthusiastically as they ever did. But Blurr was an intelligence agent, he heard the soft tones when they whispered about his lack of speed or strange new frame had him shying away from any interaction. You could set a chronometer to his interactions. Blurr was in recovery mode. At least he got out of his berth. In fact, it was harder to get him into a berth. Occasionally he would have a restful recharge, but mostly he resurfaced; awakened by the terrors of his past. When that happened, Blurr would run.

     The scientists who ran the tests said he would never return to his bipedal speed of the past. But Team Prime’s medical officer had scoffed, assuring him that the bot could achieve anything he put his processor too. Knowing Ratchet, it had more than likely been his distain at the scientists pessimism but Blurr took it as a small light of hope. So every time his demons tried to catch up with him; Blurr ran.

    In the middle of the night, no one used the Elite Guard Ovaltrack. The noise of his engines would have been soft enough in bipedal mode, but his thrusters were not. They would choke out over a certain speed, spluttering out a harsh noise. It didn’t matter, the training grounds were far enough away from anybot that the whine and choke of his struggling turbines that he wouldn’t wake anyone.

    He wouldn’t be a good intelligence agent if he didn’t catch on to being observed. Part of him was curious but it was a long lost part of him. They never showed themselves and did well to keep out of sight. If anything but to soothe their morbid curiosity, he didn’t expose them. There was always that nagging feeling that they could be Decepticons, but the Elite Guard wouldn’t allow that in their midst again.

    Would they?

    Blurr would run that feeling off too. He would run until his engines faltered and his lines dried out and then drag himself back to his berth. But sometimes he didn’t make it and would find himself in a medical berth, being lectured on proper self-maintenance and refueling.

     “You’ve got a visitor.” A scientist told him before leaving. Blurr thought it odd the scientist stepped out for a visitor, plenty of the Elite Guard had stopped by for a hello in the past. When Sentinel Magnus walked through the door, flanked by two smaller bots that matched his paint, Blurr figured why.

     “What a surprise.” Sentinel was condescending as usual, “To see the fastest bot in the Elite Guard bedridden.”

     Blur felt exhausted in more way than one, “Sir.”

     “Don’t you look miserable. Here I thought you were keeping us up for a good reason.” Sentinel laughed out, guffawing at his own harsh words. “The Blurr of the Elite Guard is now a just a _blurb_ in Autobot history.”

     Blurr couldn’t really feel much chagrin at that, his processor had told himself worse things in the middle of the night. “Do you have a mission for me, sir?”

    The Magnus kept up his taunting laughter, “You don’t even talk the same anymore. I don’t think you could handle a mission in the state you’re in. Lucky for you I don’t need an agent, I need a botsitter.”

     Blurr watched one of his lackeys look inquisitively at a medical instrument before his partner jostled him and they grinned at each other, “All those years of the Academy and you can’t handle two Autobots?”

     Sentinel grinned, “Looks like your processor still runs fast.” He puffed up a little, “Being a Magnus is a tough job and it requires me to put aside some of my other duties. This is Jetstorm.”

      The blue Autobot suddenly straightened and saluted, a playful grin on his face. But he still paid more heed to Sentinel than any Autobot.

     “And Jetfire.”

     The orange one looked more serious as he saluted Blurr, squaring his shoulder plating up. They were young bots then.

      “Apparently I’ve been getting a few complaints about their behavior. Quite frankly, I don’t want to deal with it. If you’ve got the time to be grinding yourself gray, I’m sure you can keep these Autobots under control.” The Magnus waved his servo, “Perhaps you can wear them down with a race or two. Unless you just want to run in circles by yourself some more.”

      Sentinel had his own kindness. For a moment, Blurr didn’t want to accept, but things were different now. Sentinel was a Magnus, and he had taken his time and his team to allow Blurr to cope. To turn away such a kindness, no matter how it was presented, would be an affront to the Autobot cause.

     “Yes, Sentinel Magnus.” Blurr turned his helm down and away from the noisy three.

     Sentinel looked over at the blue Autobot. He was the best undercover agent this side of the galaxy. Just because he had a new frame didn’t mean that deep down inside, somewhere, there was the same old bot. Sentinel would wrangle that Autobot out, they needed him. He shot out one last word, “Wings look good on you, Blurr.”


	2. Chapter 2

     Sentinel always picked the worst times to dump the jettwins off. Every time they acted out it felt like a punishment to Blurr. And they seemed to act out almost every day and it was up to Blurr to chase after them. They interfered with any current paperwork he had, but his supervisors just shook their helms and wished him luck as they gave his duties to someone else. It was all he could do to scrape decipher work for after his “botsitting” job was over.

     Around Sentinel, Jetfire and Jetstorm were very well behaved. They listened to his every command and every order. However, he hadn’t ordered them to listen to Blurr. In fact, Blurr wasn’t sure what Sentinel _had_ ordered them to do, but it certainly wasn’t to listen to anybot in particular. After all, they were energetic, far beyond anyone’s patience, and Blurr was known for having very little. Finally, after a rather rowdy refueling session, Jetstorm and Jetfire spoke out on their own impatience.

     “It is same thing every day, yes?” Jetstorm was the first to speak, “We don’t be coming out here for duties.”

     Jetfire put a servo on his brother’s shoulder. “Right, brother,” he turned to the lighter blue mech, “When do we do the running?”

    “Shh.” Blurr frantically looked around for an exit before pulling them toward a nearby server room, “Come here.”

     The server room was a small, cramped space that much larger mechs couldn’t get into but the three of them could squeeze in easily. Blurr yanked down on the younger Autobots to look at them in the optic, gritting his denta, “I would greatly appreciate if you didn’t spread around the fact I’ve been using my free time to partake in such activity. As so, if we raced during the day everyone would see us and quite frankly don’t want it to turn into a spectator event.”

     Both mechs looked surprised for a moment at the sudden speed of his words. But Jetstorm came back coolly, that infuriatingly smug grin on his faceplate, “Why you don’t?”

     _Because I don’t want them to be disappointed._ Blurr swallowed the feeling and looked the bot straight in the optic, “I have a perfectly good reason why.”

     Jetfire placed a servo on Jetstorm again, leaning more to his brother than Blurr, “Let us do the cooling of the turbo fans, brother.”

     Blurr suddenly realized he was trapped in a server closet with two strangers. True that they were Autobots, but it was as if a servo clamped down around his spark and he suddenly wanted to leave. He let the metal of the two go before harshly wriggling out and away from them and the server room. “I will race you tonight. _If_ you behave.”

     True to his threat, the twins made themselves scarce for most of the day. Blurr realized that they were a lot like Sentinel in a weird sort of way, in more than just paint. Jetstorm had that infuriating know it all grin that seemed imprinted on by the former Prime. They had a perchance for not getting in trouble when they wanted something. But then again, it wasn’t as if Blurr had been trying to get to know them this entire time. It was a fault in his programming for not communicating earlier, another thing sacrificed in the wake of his recent changes. Blurr made a mental note to fix that. Maybe he had been cut off from his fellow Autobot’s for far too long. It would be no good to lose his social programming, you can’t get intel being a loner.

     Jetstorm and Jetfire were already at the Ovaltrack when Blurr arrived.

     “We do not hope that you are being this slow in the race, Blurr.” Jetstorm taunted out. His brother shoulderchecked him and they got into a brief brotherly scuffle before Blurr’s venting sigh made them stop.

     “Are you ready then?” Blurr, himself, was not. He hadn’t raced against another mech in his new form and he didn’t know what to expect. Especially since he never seen these bots before. Were they fast? Or just fast to other mechs? But under all the apprehension there was a old new feeling; excitement. What if he could win?

    It wasn’t good to get his hopes up. Blurr set his mark at the starting line. Jetstorm looked at Jetfire, rolling his optics slightly before walking around behind Blurr. Blurr immediately threw up his guard, as the Autobot didn’t walk past.

    Jetfire gave Blurr a small smile, as he walked to his front.  “Excuse, but why do you not be making frame more aerodynamic?”

     Blurr frowned; he had no idea what the orange bot meant. Jetfire kept that “service with a smile” look on his faceplate and shook his helm slightly, pointing at Blurr's wings which hitched up above his shoulders. Blurr responded, “I…I haven’t really studied the code for that.”

    “We can be of helpfulness to you.” Jetfire reached out both of his servos to grasp Blurr’s elbows and help straighten him up. Blurr couldn’t understand exactly what they wanted, “But it requires you to be of the relaxation.”

     They were Autobots, so he wasn’t too sure what they could know about seeker frames. Much of what anyone could tell Blurr was gleaned from some experiment with the remains of one of Starscream’s clones. But while Blurr was focused on Jetfire in front of him, Jetstorm placed his servos on Blurr’s wings.

     It was a shocking feeling, one that crawled down his backstruts and made him shiver.

     Jetfire’s servos now braced him as Jetstorm eased his wings down as gently and efficiently as he could. Jetstorm's fingertips slid gently down his wing area once finished. Blurr’s frame shook at the gentle touch and he gasped out, unaware of what exactly his frame was trying to tell him. He was suddenly grateful for Jetfire’s strong servos holding him up as Jetstorm walked around to his brother. He grinned at Blurr who glared at him; his frame finally calming down. He could swear the Autobot knew what he did, but that was impossible; Blurr was the only Autobot with flight capabilities.

     Jetstorm leaned onto his brother’s frame and they exchanged knowing glances. It was almost as if they could communicate telepathically. Jetfire spoke, his vocalizer tinted with mirth, “You are the ready now, sir?”

    Of course these Autobots were part of the Elite Guard and had fought with Decepticons. They were clever and unified, Blurr would have to observe them carefully from now on. There was a reason they were bodyguards to the Magnus. The light blue Autobot straightened and pulled his servos away from Jetfire, doing his best not to snatch back his own limbs. He didn’t reply and instead took his mark again at the starting line.

    Jetstorm shoved off his brother, throwing back a cheerful look before the twins took their marks beside him. Blurr’s processor practically buzzed, still reflecting on what exactly had just happened. The automated system in the Ovaltrack sounded out the starting ping and Blurr took off.

    The completely different airflow almost made Blurr stop as soon as he started. But as the twins rushed past him, he shook off his surprise and set himself to run again. He was nowhere near as fast as he once was, that much was true. But the simple act of adjusting his wings had significantly reduced drag. Blurr was so distracted he ran past the finishline and had to be called back.

    He was minutely aware that the jettwins were sharing some sort of inside joke at his expense as they watched him track back to their stopping point.

   “How did you do that?” Blurr demanded, the speed coming back to his voice. “I understand that knowing a Decepticons frame is a vital part of accurate take down. But I’d hardly call myself a traditional Decepticon frame. First and foremost because I am an Autobot. Secondly, not even the people who are familiar with Decepticon frames can figure out my coding. So, I will find out, and it will be quickly, how exactly you seem to know my frame with such accuracy.”

     Jetstorm was the one to speak now, leaning against his brother as he did before. “Lucky guess.”

     Blurr knew the twins were “pulling their punches” so to speak while they ran. Usually only outpacing him by a few milliseconds to keep it “close”. But he didn’t care. He kept running even after the twins grew bored and took to observing him on the sidelines. He would have ran himself dry if they didn’t finally cut him off. Outpacing him and then braking suddenly.

    “What-“ Blurr skidded to a halt as they crossed paths.

    “We be sleeping now.” Jetstorm supplied.

    “That’s fine. I’m going to stay here and run.”

    “We have orders, Blurr. You will be going to recharge now.” Jetstorm folded his servos.  Jetfire leaned in and whispered to his brother, but Blurr wasn’t built yesterday and he heard the soft whisper. He narrowed his optics.

   “Fine.” Blurr huffed out.

    Jetfire smiled at him, stepping forward, “We are walking to room now.”

     Blurr protested the escort. But it seemed this was something the Magnus ordered them to do, as they carried it out to its end. Blurr half expected them to stand guard at his door but they gave him a rather courteous good night. Instinctively, Blurr double-locked the door.

   _In his berth or ours._

    It had been a long time since anybot had spoken about Blurr like that. Or to him like that. From the way Jetfire said it so fluidly, they had obviously been hit on in the past. Autobots as of late just tended to avoid the light blue seeker. Many of the intelligence mechs he knew before had been restructured after Shockwave’s sabotage. Anyone could be a Decepticon spy, but only Blurr had a Decepticon frame. So the Autobots that didn’t know him tended to avoid him. It wasn’t like Blurr did anything to stop that. Right now, Blurr wasn’t too sure if he should be flattered or frightened. He tumbled onto his own berth, interlocking his digits over his optics as his processor tried to decipher why exactly he had been assigned to this mission. As he drifted into recharge, he wondered if it really was because Sentinel thought it was good for him or if the Magnus believed that he couldn’t be trusted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter averages are going to be about 1.5k words

After their first race, the jettwins were relatively quiet, at least for Blurr. Sometimes they would act out and be sent to the intelligence agent. However, most times they would just show up late at and run with him. They always assured that he didn’t run himself ragged, no matter how much he tried to. The only issue Blurr ever had was the way other Autobot’s handled the two. He understood they were relatively young, but most Autobots viewed them as a burden and seemed happy to let them at Blurr. Any time they showed even a minor behavioral problem, Blurr would find them in his way.

    So when Jazz called him out of the blue to hang out, Blurr jumped at the chance to learn more about the new Autobots. And to get away from the infuriating routine his days had turned into. It was a break from the troublesome duo, they would have to just wait at the Ovaltrack until they rusted. Luckily, Jazz was a sympathetic ear to listen to.

    “So, I heard you got botsitting duty.” Jazz surprisingly brought up the subject after pleasantries. They sat in a cozy corner both of a sparkling lit bar. Blurr dejectedly leaned against the table and played with his energon container. They had a pitcher of the stuff. Jazz drank his own in soft sips, pacing himself on the blue colored liquid.

    “Yeah. Ordered by the Magnus no less.” Blurr complained, “I feel like he thinks it’s going to be good for me. Either that or he enjoys torturing me.”

    Jazz laughed, “Nah, bro. I was there when they were cold-constructed. They’ve always had that mischievous vibe to them. You just have to go with their flow.”

     Apparently, Jazz was keeping the human vernacular he picked up on Earth. Blurr wished he had a must faster ‘flow’. He ignored his emotional baggage for just a moment to complain about the shared topic, “I feel like they have some big secret that they’re keeping from me. The way they whisper and exchange glances with each other.  It’s like they can talk about you with their optics. It’s infuriating.”

     Jazz merely hummed a response and drank a little more from his glass.

     Blurr gulped down the energon, as if the liquid could prime the experience, then added more to his cup. “Especially about the wing thing.”

     Jazz perked up with that and scooted a little closer. “What about your wings?”

    Blurr stood up and leaned forward, arching his back up to make room to tuck his wings behind him. He flicked them back out again and sat down, “I didn’t even know how to do that and these cold-constructed new sparks taught me how to do that much. But they are especially flirty, the blue one, Jetstorm right?” Blurr was slipping back into his old pattern of speaking, “It seems like he takes every opportunity to teach me as a time to touch me. There is a time and place for that kind of behavior. Although, it isn’t heavy handed like many bots tend to be, it’s just unexpected in this form to have someone gently touch you while you are trying to train. It’s not to say it’s unnatural but I can’t help but think he’s doing it on purpose.”

     Jazz scooted in closer with that, “So they’re young. They need a little more learning that’s all. But honestly, speedracer, you’ve always been a very pretty model.”

     Blurr turned up to look at Jazz, mouth in a small downturned frown, “Yeah right, Jazz, not even a Decepticon could love me.”

    Jazz caught his faceplate, turning it back to him as the speedster tried to look away, “I think you look just fine, Blurr.”

    As he whispered those words and brought Blurr’s faceplate closer unwanted memories resurfaced and Blurr pushed fervently away from the Cyber-Ninja. Somehow Blurr was on his pedes faster than he’d meant. Jazz looked surprised, whether from Blurr’s fear or from the push, who knew.

     “Don’t apologize.” Jazz spoke up assertively, before Blurr had a chance to. “I overstepped.”

     Blurr spluttered out words, doing his best not to apologize but Jazz held up his hand, “It’s cool, man. I understand if you don’t want to hang more. I’ve got the bill.”

    Blurr really didn’t want to say, his spark felt as if it would burst from his chest. Jazz continued as if Blurr hadn’t just treated him like scrap, “Jetstorm, Jetfire and you are three of a kind. No matter what Sentinel thinks, I know being with them will be good for you.”

    Blurr wasn’t sure what Jazz meant but he wanted to run so he just blurted out, “I have to go.”

    As soon as Blurr skidded out of the bar he ran. His thrusters strained, at odds with his code to shift gears. He ran blind, ignoring everything around him. His processor focused on the light of the Ovaltrack, like a far off lighthouse in the middle of the darkness growing in his processor. If only he could make it there. Faster, faster still. Even that made his spark sink deeper, what was the point of his goal if he would just lose everything. The streets of Cybertron were closing around him, he couldn’t run fast. His engines choked and spluttered and his pede turbines struggled to turn on. His body was wrong, all wrong, he was choking out of it.

     Suddenly, the darkness in his processor cleared and he found himself in the Ovaltrack. Blurr used his pedes to skid to a stop, once again enveloping himself in a cloud of smoke and vapor. But the darkness in his processor was still there, even though he had made it, it meant nothing, didn’t it? Even though he had ran so fast.

     Blurr’s intakes gasped for cooled air, his liquid cooling systems not enough to combat his frame at odds with itself. He wobbled and fell to his knees, everything turned to shadow and light as his systems warned him of the strain. He was enveloped in darkness as his medical protocols slipped him into emergency recharge.

* * *

     Reviving from emergency recharge was never a fun experience for Blurr. The medical berth was always very hard, but this time it felt very small and very soft.

     In fact, it felt as if he was in a box more than a medical berth, closed in on either side by metal. His optics flickered online and he wearily lifted his helm, trying to make sense of everything around him. From what he could tell, he was in his own quarters but it didn't feel like his berth. It felt like he was strapped down.

      But he wasn’t, he lifted his helm and came optic to optic with Jetfire who smiled a small smile. Blurr opened his mouth to speak but Jetfire placed a digit to his own lips then pointed down. Jetstorm had his servos wrapped firmly around his aft, his visor dim. Jetfire whisper, “He still is the sleeping.”

     Blurr wanted to protest the position, Jetstorm had jack-knifed himself under Blurr’s pedes. None of this could be comfortable for the blue bot. And the heat radiating off the three bots, although enormously comfortable for Blurr, couldn't be good for the Autobots. Grounders engines didn't do well with overheating. 

    “Why do you not fly?” Jetfire asked softly, breaking the speedster's concentration.

     Blurr was still having difficulty figuring out exactly what happened last night, his own fears and delusions mixing in with the events of the night before. Was it Jazz or Longarm he ran from? Was it the twins or Longarm that greeted him at the Ovaltrack? “What?”

     Jetfire reached forward to point at Blurr’s tucked back wings. Blurr turned his helm and  noticed that he had been recharging on the orange bot’s arm throughout the night, “When you stop, you should be using your speed brakes, or your air brakes. You do not use them.”

     The light blue bot had nowhere to go, his wings kept him from twisting too far away. The young bot wrapped around his pedes kept him from squirming away. So he curled into Jetfire’s chest to hide his insecurities. He noted that the orange bot didn’t know where to put his free servo, so he tucked it behind his own back. Unlike his brother it didn’t seem like he was going to touch Blurr so casually. Blurr could only mumble into the younger bot’s chest, “I told you, I haven’t learned that code yet.”

     “No.” Jetfire vocalizations reverberated through his chestplating, “You use the Autobot coding.”

    Blurr clenched his fists. Of course he did but he was afraid of what he would turn into.

     “The processor is at war with the frame.”

     Blurr had to look up at that, it was said so clearly he knew that Jetfire had to be quoting someone. Amber optics studied him before he gave that soft little smile again. “Jazz said this. My brother and me go now to Magnus.”

     Jetfire nudged Jetstorm with his servo, the blue bot’s visor onlining and the bot stretching out. He murmured something unintelligible before sitting up, finally freeing Blurr’s pedes. The intelligence agent couldn’t help but notice flecks of light blue paint on dents in the darker blue bots frame. Jetfire took his brothers servo, interlocking their digits before waving at Blurr. Blurr had tried to get up to see them out.

      “Please, stay resting. Comm if you need us. Forget not the flying.”

     Blurr nodded and waited a bit after the twins left before standing up and double-locking the door again. He wouldn’t be going in to work today, maybe even to the commissary to get refueled. He sank to the floor and looked at his pedes, thrusters instead of hollow wheel bearings. His metal was still light and aerodynamic. His frame was still responsive. Ratchet and Jetfire were right in their own way, it was his processor that wasn’t coded right. Blurr stared at the walls of his quarters, pressing against his back.

    This was no good, he wasn’t going to be trapped again. In any room or in this frame. Blurr quickly unlocked the door to his quarters and escaped.


	4. Chapter 4

     Transforming was easy, it was basic coding and the same in Decepticons or in Autobots. It was the take off that was giving Blurr trouble.

     It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how, the coding was all there. In a panic, when he first burst forth from the creation matrix of the Allspark he had easily tapped into his flight capabilities. But now, now he wasn’t too sure he wanted to. Perhaps he was afraid of it.

      Taxiing was simple enough, but again, he was working with old code to propel his wheels forward. But it did the same as running, burned through his fuel quickly and burdened his systems. And of course, taxiing was incredibly slow.

     Flustered after his first attempt, Blurr called Jazz and shared to him Jetfire’s thoughts. Of course he didn’t share who the thoughts came from, or where they were when shared, but Jazz had some insight.

    “Don’t ‘Con’s get a running start or jump off things before they transform?” Jazz wondered the bot, scratching the side of his helm, “Why are you asking me about this, wouldn’t the twins know more?”

     Blurr wondered exactly how the twins would know more, but maybe they were briefed or something.  He lied, “They’re busy with duties for the Magnus.”

    Jazz shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe you want to jump off something, but not too high Blurr. You don’t know what you’re doing. Last thing I need is some medical unit disassembling me after you hurt yourself.”

     So Blurr started running and transforming, Jazz was right. It did activate some hidden protocols which switched on his thrusters. However, Blurr’s processor still railed against his new form so his flights were still mostly takeoff and landing.

     It was after one of these short flights where he got a visitor. Blurr was happy at first, unlocking the door and as it slid aside he expected the sight of Jetstorm or Jetfire. Instead, Cliffjumper Prime stood in his door frame.

     Blurr had always feared this day would come. Either Cliffjumper was going to ask about Shockwave or worse. Perhaps the science bots would take him apart now.

      “Hey, Blurr.”

    Blurr let himself relax. If Cliffjumper viewed Blurr as a threat he would have brought the full force of the Elite Guard down on him by now. “Sir, what are you doing down here?”

    “May I come in? This is a private matter.”

     Blurr hesitated. It wasn’t as if there was any sign of the other two Autobots in his quarters. “Can I get you anything, sir? Motor oil, coolant-“

     “No, thank you, Blurr,” Cliffjumper interrupted, scanning the room. “You don’t need to trouble yourself for me. How are you adjusting?”

     It was such a loaded question. Of course the truth was that Blurr was adjusting horridly. He wasn’t talking to bots like he used to and the only interaction he ever got was from two younglings and the occasional visit from Jazz. Maybe not anymore from Jazz as Blurr had basically treated him like an enemy the last time he met. Not to mention the nightmares that kept his cooling fans so busy he had taken to not keeping his coverings on his berth.

     “Just fine, sir.” Blurr lied.

     “I am glad to hear that.” Cliffjumper shifted; he could tell Blurr was worried so he gave a smile. It made them both feel worse. “Even though you aren’t in the field anymore your work is invaluable to us.”

      They sat in silence. Blurr didn’t want to thank him; he didn’t feel his work was that great.

     “We need to talk about the flying,” the red mech said suddenly, finally appointing a topic for the visit.

     “Sir?” Perhaps it was Cliffjumper observing him in the Ovaltrack.

     “I’d like it, if when you flew, if you would tell someone first. With how everything has played out recently, the people still feel as if Decepticons are a present threat.” Cliffjumper finally gave him a genuine grimace, “I lost you once to the enemy. The last thing I want is for you to be shot out of the sky by friendly fire.”

     Blurr was surprised. It was possibly the sincerest, kindest thing Cliffjumper had ever told him. “Yes, sir. I understand. I will call you.”

    Cliffjumper gave a wave of his servo, “Just send me a message, Blurr. I don’t have time for that.”

     “Understood.” Blurr felt his wingtips dip ever so slightly, an automatic response for once.

    “Thank you.” Cliffjumper turned to leave. As Blurr stood in the door, he did his best to be sociable, “I like the new frame.”

     Blurr stood still, why did everybot say that? Blurr hesitated before calling out to the departing Autobot, “Wait, Cliffjumper.”

     Cliffjumper turned. “Yes, what is it, Blurr?”

     “Do you have footage of Starscream flying?”

     “Yes, but… why would you need that?”

     Blurr shifted uncomfortably. In light of recent events, it would stand to reason that Cliffjumper would be suspicious about any Decepticon related request. “I feel I could learn something from his movements. I could learn a little more about myself.”

     The red minibot looked very confused at the request, “I’ll see what I have on the files.”

    Blurr received the files later that day and transferred them to a mobile data pad. He ran into the wall more than once- reversing footage and replaying it over and over and over again. At any free moment he would slip away. Starscream transformed in and out of takeoff _and_ landing, and Blurr found it much easier on his systems to do the same. It was as if watching the Decepticon footage was making it easier for his processor to accept the fact that instead of starting his engine, he had to activate his thrusters and he could do that in the middle of transforming. Blurr began taking small flights. 

     Blurr’s processor began to go through changes, even with the short flights he made. He found himself just a tad bit cheerier. His nightmares slowly passed. Although he still had dreams during recharge, the subject matter had changed. Drastically. He found himself dreaming about the jettwins, who lately were busy with their own duties for once. Once he had a dream they were sleeping in his berth with him, curling around him like they did before. Jetfire stroking his wings to calm him and Jetstorm nuzzling against his pedes. Blurr woke up from that one as quickly as he had any nightmare, clutching at his spark chamber, confused by what exactly his processor was trying to tell him. Perhaps he actually missed the trouble making duo?

     Not for long though. Blurr found himself in the halls processor deep in studying another seeker vid when his optics were suddenly covered.

   “Make the guess at who,” a voice rang out.

     “Jetstorm?” Blurr pulled down a servo and turned. Surprisingly, he was accompanied by no one.

     The young bot grinned down at him, leaning forward, “Miss me?”

     Blurr struggled with that question for a little while longer, “Of course not. Where is your brother?”

     “I see you are making him favorite.” Jetstorm leaned a servo against the wall. Blurr felt trapped but only for a moment as the young bot left him a way out under his elbow. “He is not as wearing of the good shoes as everyone thinks.”

     Blurr shook his helm but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his faceplate, “You’ve been hanging out with Jazz too long, you don't make any sense.”

     “Brother is injured. I am not the well behaved so I removed.” Jetstorm shrugged. They really had been hanging out with Jazz too long. In the same way Blurr noted their behavior similar to the Magnus, their mannerisms reflected that of the hipster bot. “So perhaps we can play games?”

     Blurr’s optics locked back onto Jetstorm’s visor. “Games?”

     “Be following me.” Jetstorm turned around, excited to lead the intelligence agent.

     Blurr frowned at his datapad, he still had a lot of flying he wanted to do today. He turned off the screen and tucked the pad away. He supposed a game or two wouldn’t hurt.

   Jetstorm model was very unique. In fact, the two Autobots looked heavily coded and modded; Blurr could recognize the science department’s MO anywhere. Jetstorm stood tall, his back struts looking incredibly aerodynamic. He was less rounded than his counterpart, and his points added a cool contrast to his brother’s paint _and_ edges. He wondered what their alt modes looked like; their arm fins were probably the spoilers by what he could see. Their alt modes sounded none too comfortable in that case.

     “Are you be admiring my actuators?” Jetstorm grinned back at Blurr, breaking his thought process clean in two.

      Blurr had not had a straightforward tease in quite awhile. Normally his mouth would be loaded with a comeback, but the dreams he’d been having lately sealed his secrets behind silence. Jetstorm spun around gracefully, ducking his helm down and bending to look up at Blurr, “It is okay. I like new build of mine too.”

     There was a conflict in Blurr’s intel, “I thought you brothers were cold-constructed?”

    Jetstorm gave a motion with a servo, “Mm, they tinker after accident.”

     Blurr desperately wanted to know more, but he didn’t know what to ask. It all seemed so personal- not consensual- without Jetfire there. Even so, everyone seemed so cautious of the bots. No one really seemed to mess with them or talk much to them that he knew of. Sentinel, he supposed, would never suffice as genuine company. Instead he supplied, “I wasn’t checking out your actuators.”

     Jetstorm grinned and twirled back to comfortably continue walking.

     Blurr tried to rein back the burning desire to know more about the twins. Apparently flying was rebooting his intelligence protocols. He wondered for a moment if the need to observe them was based solely in curiosity. Then again, that’s what all of these things were based on weren’t they? Intel bots worked on hunches and intrigue, and those two held plenty of it.

     “We play the beep beep game,” Jetstorm broke Blurr’s fixation yet again. They had entered the Ovaltrack.

     “What’s that?” Blurr couldn’t help but lean over the larger bot as he bent down to make a mark on the ground.  Jetstorm purposefully shifted into him, knocking Blurr on top of him. He then lifted the smaller bot up as if he was a paper weight. Blurr scrambled to find purchase before realizing, shamefully, that he should have just slid off.

    Jetstorm was too cheeky for his own good that’s for sure. He wasn’t hiding the fact he enjoyed the present company, perhaps growing bold now that his brother wasn’t here. Not like he wasn’t that bold before.

    The blue bot made another mark on the ground, “We run back and forth and there will be beeps.”

     It was an automated part of the Ovaltrack system, it kept metered noise to track how many cycles had passed. “If you do not touch the mark twice, you lose, okay?”

     Blurr nodded his understanding. They stood on opposite ends.

    No matter how much Blurr had improved he still wasn’t fast enough for his own liking. Granted they both made their mark for the beeps, synchronizing with Jetstorm’s movements tended to help him maintain speed. Jetstorm looked as if he was having the time of his life, sometimes throwing out either jaunts or cheers Blurr couldn’t tell. But he wasn’t as fast as he used to be. If he was in his old frame he’d be running circles around the younger bot.

     The sudden sad thought made his thruster trip up midway through one of his rounds. At first he thought he would once again succumb to the sadness in his processor until he felt a firm grip around his midsection.

    Jetstorm had caught his fall. It looked like it took an insane burst of speed from the younger bot. His usual smile was gone as he panted slightly from the effort, “Please, do not.”

    Blurr placed his pedes on the ground and pushed away the servo. “Sorry.”

     Jetstorms grin returned, even if he slid his shaking servos behind his helm, “Ha ha. You do not have to hurt yourself to recharge with us again Blurr.”

    The younger bot leaned in too close to be called professional, whether to check on him or merely to emphasize the phrase, “It was much enjoyed.”

     Blurr called him on the bluff, speaking as quickly as he ever did, “I find that hard to believe as you, unlike your brother, did not seem so well rested. Judging by your position and the dents I saw it was more likely that I thrashed so much in recharge you had to restrain me to prevent harm to come to myself or your brother.”

    Jetstorm happily shot back, “Do not worry. Brother figured out a way to calm both sleep speak and moving.”

    Blurr flushed a little at that. It was obvious to him that both of these new bots had a fascinated interest in him, they cared for him in a new way that the speedster wasn’t used to. Why exactly had they ended up in his berth? "I probably need to get to some flying now, I've been working on it for awhile."

     Jetstorm prattled on, “I am not understanding why you fly alone. Why do you not fly with us?”

     Blurr froze, “How could I fly with you?”

     Jetstorm frowned, “You are not having the knowledge?”

     “Knowledge of what?” Blurr felt that tightness in his spark again, stepping closer.

     “We were re-built Decepticon coded, speed bot.” Jetstorm

     Blurr felt cold and hot all at once. Of course, he had been so stupid as to assume the ‘Jet’ in their names meant that they were jet-propulsion grounders. They were named by Sentinel after all and he had never been creative in that regard. Blurr hadn’t asked, but it explained so much why they were put in his care. Even Jazz had pointed out that they were ‘three of a kind’. Blurr was a useless intelligence officer for not picking up on it sooner.

    Blurr swallowed at the next thought: _Longarm would be disappointed._ Aloud he sounded, “I have to go.”


	5. Chapter 5

     Jetfire was angry.

     It had been megacycles, far too many megacycles since they had seen the sweet seeker. Whereas Blurr was so accessible before, now he was impossible to find. When they caused trouble, nobot seemed to be able to contact the light blue seeker and eventually gave up on trying to wrangle the duo. His years undercover finally made sense. He was an intelligence agent good at avoiding being caught, especially by the jettwins.

     And Jetfire blamed his brother.

     Jetstorm didn’t know exactly what upset Blurr. He had his ideas and hunches it was because of their Decepticon background. But he wasn’t going to let his dear spark know. So he didn’t dispute Jetfire’s accusations that his cheekiness scared the light blue seeker off. The jettwins were two sides of the same coin, different but in their spark; the same. They both cared deeply for the sweet azure mech.

     “You said something to him,” Jetfire said accusingly in their cryptophasia, “And now he hides from us.”

      Jetstorm did his best to soothe his brother’s fears, but as the cycles twisted on, Jetfire wasn’t calming down. “We should go into his quarters and wait there for him.”

    “Brother,” Jetstorm was growing weary with the little spats that Jetfire would start with him, “You know that will only drive him further away.”

    Jetfire had been getting especially fired up lately- pardon the expression -so much even the Magnus noticed. He restricted their access to their quarters and with him. However, that didn’t stop them from fighting and causing mischief between themselves.  

      Jetstorm and Jetfire were mid-scuffle in Sentinel’s office when Blurr’s first scream tore across the skies. The noise coming from the air flowing over his wings. Jetfire sat on him suddenly, tightening his grip on his brother’s shoulder plating. 

     “Brother.” Jetstorm stroked lightly down Jetfire’s servo, “You’re hurting me.”

     Jetfire loosened his grip on his brother, but he didn’t take his optics off the skies as Blurr soared over. Jetstorm continued stroking down his brothers armor. From his awkward position under Jetfire, the blue aerial could see Blurr’s movements albeit skewed, “He is beautiful. Right, brother?”

     Jetfire placed a servo on the glass separating them from the skies, and from Blurr.

     “I want him,” he chittered.

     Even in their cryptophasia, Jetfire had never been so honest. He normally was so restrained as to keep from trouble. Even on the energon farms, it was Jetfire doing his best to manipulate his way out of trouble. He did it even more so now that they only had each other. Jetstorm wriggled from beneath the orange mech’s pedes finally gaining a better vantage. He glanced over at his shared spark.

    Jetstorm had only seen and felt Jetfire this agitated when Blurr ran into the Ovaltrack, where they had been waiting most the night. They heard his engine coming from a mile away. Jetstorm hadn’t looked up, but Jetfire was always the more sensitive one. He wandered over to the entrance where Blurr soon ran through. He almost crashed into the orange bot before saying something unintelligible. Jetfire reached out as if to steady the bot and the light blue mech sagged into his servos.

     Jetstorm could only watch as Jetfire cradled Blurr in his servos, gently using his frame slowly to the ground.

    “Is he offline, brother?” The blue bot asked, stepping closer curiously.

     Jetfire shook his helm, transfixed by the speedster now in his servos. He shifted to support Blurr’s neck cables and helm. “Why does he not fly, brother?”

     Jetstorm knew that they probably didn’t want to know the answer. From the very beginning the duo was intrigued by another Autobot flyer. They were the first in flight, but apparently this Autobot had a track record. But the sullen seeker in front of them was nothing like the stories they collected. Of course, Sentinel with all his tack, told them of his demise and sudden revival. He was destroyed by a double agent Longarm Prime. But that didn’t explain why the seeker didn’t fly. Or why he was so downtrodden.

     “Let us take him to the medical bots.” Jetstorm soothed gently. “Or the scientists.”

     Jetfire shook his helm, clinging to the light blue bot and looking up at his brother with amber eyes. The blue bot couldn’t deny his brother anything, they were of the same. So they hoisted him between them and snuck them into his own room.

    It was Jetfire who lingered, and Jetstorm who reluctantly agreed to stay with Blurr through the night until the morning. But Blurr did not have sweet dreams, even in medically induced recharge, and he did thrash through the night. Jetfire would gently stroke his wing area, or plant soft kisses on his helm. Something Jetstorm was almost shy to watch. He understood why, it would be the same thing they would do to each other when troubled. The brothers spoke lowly through the night when Blurr would stir. About how they wanted him to learn to fly and they wanted him to learn with them.

      Now, Blurr was learning fast without them. Four megacycles ago he was just getting a hang of takeoff and landing. Now, Blurr raced through the skies so fast his wings cut through the atmosphere, screaming all the way. The jettwins couldn’t help but watch him hungrily as he passed by their window.

     Blurr wouldn’t come to them, especially if he was struggling with his own Decepticon coding as Jetstorm suspected. But there was something inside the spark of the jettwins that called that they needed him, despite just meeting him. Jetstorm didn’t want his brother hurt, and watching Blurr from afar was hurting them both. The scientists wouldn’t know the answer to this. Their fellow Elite Guardsmechs would probably alert Blurr if they tried to dig more into the speedsters past. Of course, the bot himself was ignoring them and avoiding them fantastically. Leaving the blue half of the team only one logical conclusion for finding out information about why they felt this way.

     The Decepticon stockade.


	6. Chapter 6

     Jetfire was right, flying did make Blurr more in tune with his frame. He wasn’t too sure it was _good_  but Blurr was fast enough to allude the twins at least.

     It wasn’t as if he wanted to avoid the jettwins; in fact it was the exact opposite. He had to constantly fight the need to be with them. As interested as they were in him, there was a much less innocuous drive behind it all. It was a welcome difference from his usual problems but it still kept him up at night. His dreams were filled with Jetstorm’s charming grin and Jetfire’s quiet patience.

      Blurr pulled all the files on the Decepticon’s flying units. Starscream, as always, seemed to be at the forefront of any research. He knew better than to rev any engines by peering into the jettwin files. Although not a lot was know of the seekers, every Autobot knew it was Perceptor’s “greatest achievement” to the Autobot cause especially. The secrets of how he ‘cracked the code’ of course were under so many firewalls you would need to flood the systems just to get past them.

     Of course, it wasn’t like any Autobot would understand the strange bit of code that was insisting he wasn’t complete without the other two seekers. Any sort of reason for it was, of course, they treated him kindly since his return. They made an effort to communicate and play, in their own way, with him. Perhaps it was because they were so easy to trust? It was a type of interaction he was starved of for awhile. Why else did he allow Jetstorm to touch him so easily, but when Jazz merely tried for a chance at intimacy he pulled away?

      But now Blurr was pulling away from the twins. _Running_ away, he knew that the twins were as much of Decepticon as Blurr was. But he wasn’t too keen on putting his trust into something so close to his past. Without knowing more. It would be foolish to go to the Decepticons, any information gleaned straight from the source would come at too high of a price. Blurr didn’t need to become an accomplice to a Decepticon escaping the stockades because he wanted to find out more about himself.

    But there was nothing in the Autobot database, not even from before the war. Blurr knew the planet couldn’t have possibly in war forever, but finding any sort of Decepticon knowledge was impossible. Either because Longarm had done his best to erase any tactical knowledge or there was never any to begin with. Blurr found this hard to believe, there had to be some kind of data. But no matter how much he scraped and scrounged he never managed to find anything.

     When he would get frustrated over the computer, or some bot would desperately try and pawn off a task on him; he’d make himself scarce. Blurr’s intelligence protocols were activated, making it easy to avoid tasks and twins. He hated the first few megacycles, of the twins looking so forlorn and helpless searching for him. But they eventually stopped. He heard the whispers of their misbehaving again, but whenever a superior officer came looking; he wasn’t there.

      But Blurr flew for them. Whenever he flew he made a point to make a few laps around the Magnus’ towering office near Metroplex. He knew now they were the bots observing his races all too long ago so he made a point to show off in landing. Blurr had perfected a slight hover between his transformation and landing using his thrusters. He didn’t understand _why_   he put on a show for them, but he felt he had to.

     After a few more decacycles, he wondered if they felt the same want in their midsection as he did. Blurr struggled to get work done with all the daydreams his processor ran like simulations through his helm. There was just something deep down in his code that made him feel as if having Jetstorm and Jetfire in his life was no longer a choice; it was a necessity. Blurr started to get faster in flying, and in running. It wasn’t enough for him, but his wings screamed as he reached high speeds at such low altitudes. At night he wondered if the two bots heard him, and how they were affected. Blurr never saw the jettwins flying, he asked Cliffjumper if they needed to schedule flights, but the red Autobot got tightlipped and claimed it was above Blurr’s clearance. When Blurr pointed out they were in the same team, Cliff got even more snippy and told him to talk to Sentinel. It wasn’t something Blurr was anxious to do. Given a few more megacycles Blurr wasn’t too sure he could go much longer without the twins, his flights to calm his nerves and his urges were becoming more and more frequent. He wasn’t too sure what would happen if he saw them now or if they saw him. It was an untold part of his programming, and Blurr was becoming less and less hesitant to find out exactly where it led to.

      Blurr didn’t have to wait much longer.

     Blurr was out on a flight when they flanked him, just like they always did. Jetstorm on his left and Jetfire to his right. It was the first time Blurr had ever seen their stocky jet forms. They were beautiful in their own right.

     Jetstorm attempted to hail him, which just made Blurr speed up. As much as he wanted to hear that voice he wasn’t ready for it. Whatever ‘it’ turned out to be. Blurr flew faster.

     Wind pressurized beneath his wings and he banked suddenly to throw them off, but they were much better at flying than he was. No matter how many flips or spins he could use the jettwins were always right behind him. They tore through the sky leaving only vapor trails behind. If he couldn’t outmaneuver them, he would have to outpace them.

     Blurr accelerated, his engines spitting out flame as the air continued to scream out around them. Jetfire and Jetstorm suddenly hit his wake turbulence and destabilized. Blurr almost stalled out, concerned about them, but they quickly recovered, pulling around his wake. They were so insistent. There was a good chance they would override the commlink request over emergency frequencies. He couldn’t outrun that.

     Blurr accelerated, he had next to no drag on his engines and suddenly the seeker could only think of the feeling of air on his wings. Before, in vehicle mode, wind resistance and air pressure were his enemy, there was no way to fight it or stop it no matter how aerodynamic he was. As a seeker, things were different. The way he felt it pressurize over his ailerons was nothing like a grounder frame could never be. He felt part of it, one with it. It caressed his leading edge and ghosted over his trailing edge. All at once Blurr knew he could be faster, almost instinctively he knew he could outrun anything. Blurr rapidly increased his thrust. There was a sound like a cross between a buzzsaw and a shrill electronic scream. There was a pressure, a driving force pushing against him as if it was trying to slow him down. But the light blue seeker would not be deterred. He increased thrust and suddenly felt the pressure disappear.

     Blurr finally broke through the shockwave.

   There was a sudden concussion, the boom of the barrier breaking as Blurr pushed faster than the speed of sound. The Cybertronian atmosphere suddenly dewed with the sudden change in pressure. The concussive blast knocked aside both Jetfire and Jetstorm.

     Once they regained stability, the twins could only watch as Blurr steadily sped through Mach speeds, halfway across the planet by now.

* * *

     Blurr didn’t mean to go as fast and as far as he flew. When he finally made it back, it was late. Blurr had missed half a days work. Cliffjumper had sent half a dozen messages that Blurr just ignored.

     He was exhausted to say the least. He had been so elated to feel the speed again. Speed he had never felt in grounder mode. It was addicting.

     Blurr knew he couldn’t avoid his responsibilities for long. He would have to talk to Jetstorm and Jetfire if not together, then apart. Right now, however, all he wanted to do was get some fuel and recharge. Blurr managed to drag himself to his quarters to unlock it.

     He felt them before he saw them, a surge in his spark alerted him to the presence of… something. The slight hesitation allowed Jetstorm the opportunity to barrel into him. Jetfire darted in after the tussling Autobots; locking the door to his chambers.

     “Stop.” Blurr shouted in a panic.

     The jettwins froze, not making a single move. They had never listened to him before, why…?

     Blurr’s chestplating heaved from the effort of keeping calm, “I don’t know what I did wrong but we should talk.”

     “Don’t need talk,” Jetstorm muttered out from his position around him.

     Jetfire looked strange, he looked down at Blurr being almost pinned down by his spark brother. “Not want talk.”

     Blurr’s spark surged with some untold energy, he began speaking much like his old self, “This is my quarter so I don’t see how I have to pander to your wants. As of right now I need refueling and possibly a long recharge especially after the day I had. Unless you somehow want to facilitate this I suggest you make yourselves scarce.”

      Jetstorm looked up at his brother, whose faceplate remained grim, before grinning back to Blurr, “That is our want.”

   Blurr flushed with that, doing his best to push Jetstorm away, “You’re teasing me. Get off.”

     Jetstorm surprisingly complied, which made Jetfire scowl at him before walking to where Blurr’s fuel was kept. The light blue seeker checked himself before struggling up, “Why did you guys wait for me?”

      “We didn’t want you to deny.” Jetfire said, handing him some energon, “We are split-spark, we don’t want to split more.”

    Blurr understood the feeling in a way, “You can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

     Jetstorm leaned into his brother as they both stared at him, “As you command.”

     Blurr hitched his wings at that, the twins were acting different. A lot different. “Why are you acting this way?”

     “It’s in our code.” Jetstorm grinned, answers elusive as ever, “We will obey you.”

     “I find that hard to believe.” Blurr snorted.

     Jetfire leaned in, “Ask anything, and we’ll do it.”

     Blurr should have asked them to leave. He could have, but he realized it was something he didn’t want to order. “Recharge with me.”

     The twins exchanged glances, Blurr wasn’t sure how but he could almost read their thoughts.

    “Can we-“

     Blurr interrupted, “Yes, whatever it is you want, yes.”

    Jetfire was the first to move, hungrily crossing the distance to him to capture Blurr’s servo in one hand and his chin in the other. His kisses were fire, passionately moving across Blurr’s intake. It hid a craving Blurr didn’t know the other twin had.

     Jetstorm inched in closer, removing the energon from Blurr’s hand while his orange brother kissed Blurr furiously. The blue bot averted his gaze from the two. His brother deserved this moment with the light blue seeker.

     Blurr was the first to part his intake, his glossa sliding out to seek out the others. After a moment, he finally parted from the orange Autobot, “Well, that was something interesting.”

      Jetstorm flopped onto the berth, diverting Blurr’s attention for long enough, “Have you felt this way the whole time?”

    “No and also yes.” Jetfire murmured, a little drunk off the kisses. “We wonder if it was because all seekers.”

     He picked Blurr up suddenly by the midsection as his brother continued, stretching out on the berth, “Then we see your vehicle mode before revival is also good.”

     “But it wasn’t until you fly that we knew we had to be with you.” Jetfire finished, gently placing Blurr on the berth. “We had to.”

     Blurr’s wings flicked up, “Aren’t you scared this is just some odd Deceptic-Ah!”

     Jetstorm gently stroked Blurr’s wing area, drawing his digits gently aside. Jetfire suddenly wrapped his servos around Blurr’s midsection, stroking between the light blue seeker’s backstruts.

     Blurr hesitantly placed his servos on Jetfire, who closed his optics and hummed happily with the touch. Blurr lost all trepidation at that and began stroking the bot in long gentle strokes at whatever he could get at to distract him from the touches on his wings.

    Jetstorm kissed one wing gently, Blurr turned his helm to try and see the bot. The darker blue seeker chuckled and leaned his visored helm against him, kissing his neck cabling, “I always do touching. Every bit is nice to touch.”

     Jetfire made a muffled noise of agreement from his position, rubbing his helm into Blurr’s midriff.

     Blurr felt Jetstorm’s servos slide around him, pulling him into a bear hug and sliding him and his brother further onto the berth. It was a tight fit with all three of them, but they were happily nested. Jetfire cuddling into his midsection and front and Jetstorm giving him gentle kisses and warmth from behind was something Blurr didn’t mind getting used to.

     “Mmm, I’m sorry.” Blurr said, his optics flickering with the effort of staying online, “I…this is very nice but I’m very tired.”

     Jetfire began stroking his pedes gently, his servos making smooth motions on his metal. “Rest,” the orange mech crooned.

      Blurr, cradled between the two brothers, felt safer than he ever had the whole time he’d been online. In his nest he finally slipped into peaceful recharge.


End file.
